Forlorn Memories
by KazumaYagami
Summary: Homunculi are inhumane, destructive machines brought to life by foolish Alchemists. However, what happens, if you fail to take into question that their ability to perceive, and act, are far above your own..and one in particular, comes to know..emotion?
1. Chapter 1: Missing

Anyways. So, I've been receiving some good criticism-like reviews, and I thank you for your feedback, from my other My Precious Memory. So, this shall be the remake. So sorry for being all hiatus for awhile. D:

Chapter 1: Missing..

_Piercing..._

The place where one's heart is...where it should be...was utterly absent. There was nothing, where there was something. Things, people, and places fall, and crumble into nothing but dust...In it's wake it leaves no reminder, and becomes a speck of dust in a person's cerebral vortex.

It was as if...something was _missing. _Something important. Something that all things need to stay _alive..._But no such thing was located where the organ should be...if anything, there was a supplement for such a thing...

_Red Stone. _

Yes...that was it. In place of a heart, there was just a red stone, supplying life where the body should be dead, where the soul should be gone...where once were feelings and emotions, fluttered away by the wind itself. Just out of one's reach, they stayed up, held up by just a small string..but the string extended into a rope, and eventually, stretched up so long, that the emotions and feelings were either lost forever...

Or they were just fake emotions, created by someone to supplement the factor that you weren't a person, nor did you have a soul...You were just a husk of a being, once great, now gone...created by the forbidden Taboo of Human Transmutation...Everything in your skull, just a fragment of what should be there...memories of a time when you were human, memories of happiness, kindness...

But there was none. Empty. Devoid. Gone...And the only emotion you can feel...is the human emotion of jealousy. Envious of your siblings, envious of everything they had, but refusing to admit it...refusing to believe that the one thing you sought, the one thing you didn't want anymore, was all still in there, hidden away by a veil placed over your eyes...

Trickery, is indeed, a fickle thing that humans contend with each and every second of everyday. Just as the emotions themselves are fickle, so too, are the humans behind them. Yes...That makes much sense, but what one regrets to mention, is the factor they refuse to accept..

The sole fact that, in being something forbidden, something unloved, even hated...that you have something the humans don't. A life...eternal.

--

* * *

Slowly, the feeling of sleep ebbs away, and erodes the wall that once shielded him from complete obliviousness. With a single rub of the head, he gently massaged the green locks of hair that now lay mattered on the pillow case. Twisting and turning around in such a bed, he finally came to the edge of it, and tossed away the useless sheets that he had tugged over his slim body.

Once his bare feet touched the ground, the man arose, and slowly stretched a little, his hand going now to scratch a little at his head. The eyes were just as groggy as before, and they drooped a little from the momentary rest period. A yawn soon found it's escape through the vocal cords of his throat, and a hand immediately went up to stifle away the aforementioned yawn.

Slowly, the man moved around the home, and tugged open a refrigerator, and glanced about inside of it's contents. Finding nothing of interest, he closed the door of said refrigerator, and moved away, slowly stepping into another place.

This room was decorated rather shoddy, and the pictures hung on sideways from the walls. These were pictures of a long-abandoned home. Because the pictures depicted scenes of a human family living together. Happy. Content. It sickened him to the core, and he tore down the pictures, and thrust them out the window.

The resulting breaking of glass sent the sound throughout the home, while pieces of it flew about in both directions, landing on the messy floor, and on the unkempt ground outside. A low growl escaped his throat this time, and both eyes narrowed heavily at the spot where the portrait was. He continued along in the home itself, kicking over a table, and sometimes just slamming a fist into another portrait.

Eventually, the man went towards the main door, and took pushed it aside roughly. The sheer force of this tore the doors hinges apart, and send chips of wood flying, as well as the door itself falling into the forest floor. It was still not enough, it seemed, and the man walked out onto the forest floor, and leapt up into the trees, landing on a nearby tree branch. He crouched down on the branch for a moment, his knee placed against the bark, and the gloved hand grasping it's diameter, while the other leg was planted firmly on it's outstretched limb.

A scowl was upon his face, and before one could blink, he leapt from this tree branch, and onto another, making his way away from the abandoned home. It was of no concern to him anymore, and it was finally getting to his thoughts, and seeping into his movements. After getting far away from the home, he finally stopped the leaping routine, and hopped down from the tree, and onto the ground below.

A green, illuminating light soon found itself enshrouding his petite form, replacing the girly figure, with a shorter stature. In place of his long, green hair, was long blond hair, tied up in a braid, and ending roughly at the near-end of his back. Instead of his bare-footed clothing, which included a top that only extended down to mid-stomach, and a rather short-looking skirt, that only went down to mid thighs..were black trousers, and in place of the top was a similar black shirt. A black coat that had white-stripes going down the rim of the jacket.

On both of his hands, instead of the black gloves, were white gloves that covered his entire hand, and in place of one of his regular arms, was a mechanical one. The intense, uncaring eyes that were his eye color were no longer there. In it's place, were two golden orbs, that shone brightly, and radiated with kindness and love...fake emotions that they gave off, to give the impression he was someone else.

His lips upturned into a smirk, and the new man moved, almost unnoticed through the crowded streets. Schemes and plans raced through the skull of this strange man, and finally, when one clicked together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, there lay many open doors before him...and one of them...

Was utterly foolproof.

"Fullmetal Pipsqueak. Say hello to a friend of mine. His name is Pain. And he's going to grip your heart, and tear it out.." The joke itself went unnoticed by everyone, except for him. And when he finally did reach the residence which he sought out, one of his hands extended and gently knocked upon the wooden stature of the door. This plan of his would not fail...

And if it did, this girl...this companion, this..._lover..._

She..would die.

--

* * *

_Dammit! _

Inside of his mind, the short-statued one would curse, and grumble, throwing out insults to himself because of his incompetent employer. It was like an inferno inside of his thoughts, and he was boiling over. Before long, it boiled over long enough, and he slammed a gloved fist unto the desk angrily.

"Damn that Colonel! Dumping all of his paperwork on me! ME!" The fingers drummed softly against the wood, and one hand rested upon the chin. His amber golden hues narrowed at the window pane, and quickly, he arose from that position, and started to pace around the desk, both of his hands going behind his back. One of the hands clenched around the others wrist, and the pacing grew faster.

"How am I supposed to get this done!? In three hours!?" He stopped pacing for a moment, and pointed at the rather..large...stack of papers on his desk, which were being held up by an armored being, trying to keep the leaning tower of papers from falling.-

"I-I don't know brother...but these papers are...heavy.." The armored individual groaned, and eventually, the tower of papers fell onto a rather surprised figure – This figure was dressed almost the same as everyone else, aside from the cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth. Unfortunately, when the papers fell upon this man, he tried to jump back, but the papers that landed behind him caused him to slip and fall onto the stack.

The still lit cigarette landed onto the papers, and flames busted forth, engulfing the entire stack in fire. The figure on the floor slowly got up, and when he saw the pile of ashes, a nervous laugh escaped his throat.- "Sorry to bother you, but Colonel Mustang said that if you didn't have the papers finished by today, he was going to make you clean up his office...but I'll just tell him your finished..since it seems there are no papers to be turned in..." The person slowly backed out of the office, and went on his way to report back to Mustang..

Meanwhile, however, the short-statued man, was not exactly happy..."HEY! DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME! I'M GOING TO BEAT YOUR ASS INTO THE GROUND, AND STOMP ON YOUR FACE! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I WORKED ON THOSE PAPERS!? THEY WERE ALMOST FINISHED! WHY I OUGHTA-!"

The armor adorned fellow, however, tried his best to calm down the rather angry midget. "B-brother! Please! It was an accident. I'm sure he didn't mean to! Just calm down.." Slowly, the angry Alchemist calmed down, and sort of just fluffed his jacket out a little, and breathed out a little. "You're right, Al. Anyways, we should head back to Winry's. She said she was cooking up something special, and said it was for a very special occasion, and I don't want to piss her off." The man named 'Al' nodded, and as soon as the other man was out the door, he too followed, and closed the door behind him.

The armor clad fellow, Al, didn't protest, but did sound a little worried. "Shouldn't we have cleaned up before we left?" The older sibling of the two, who was much shorter than Al, shook his head, and craned his neck to look back at his younger brother. "Nah. Mustang'll clean it up, whether he wants to or not. Come on! We're going to be late if we don't hurry..." Slowly, he grabbed Al's hand and tugged him along, now running at a faster pace along the street.

--

* * *

Slowly, she turned around and glanced away from the food on the plates, and the knife she held in her hand. Putting down the blade, she untied the apron adorned her figure, and placed it on the table nearby, and headed for the door.

Then she opened the door, only to greet the person she was actually expecting! It was rather odd, though. She hadn't expected him home early. Maybe he got done with the paperwork earlier than expected? Oh well. The earlier, the better!

"Oh! Edward! You're home early. I didn't expect you home this early." When the door was wide open, Edward stepped through, and flashed his traditional smile at her. She smiled back, and ushered him into the dining room table.

"Hurry up. Hey, where's Al? I thought he'd be here with you.." She inquired to the man now heading on over to the table. He shot back at her, in a traditional happy tone..

"Oh! Al. He said he wanted to get you a gift of appreciation, and he wanted it to be a surprise..I offered to go with him, but he said he wanted it to be a surprise, and told me to go on ahead." He turned around to fully look at her now, and shook his head to this.

"Don't worry about it. Al'll be back before his Dinner gets cold, I think. If you want, I could go check on him.." He started, but Winry shook here head, and the smile playing upon her lips turned into a toothy grin.

"He is?! How sweet of him! Well, I don't want you to spoil the surprise, since you pretty much _do_ every time..So, I'll wait until he gets back, and if he's late, we can always sit around the table and talk. It'll be fun!" Her smile practically beamed happiness, and she turned around to go finish making the food she had prepared. "It'll be ready in a few minutes, Ed, so don't get too antsy!" She shouted, before taking the knife back up, and cutting the roast beef.

However, Edward had decided on something a little less...Beefy, and a little more of _her_. Slowly, he had ascended her stairs, and quietly snuck up to her room. Slowly, he opened the door, and the amber golden hues took in everything. When he spotted a few things he might need, he had grabbed them. It was just simple clothing, mostly...

But, when he came back down, wrapped around his forearms was a few sweaters...and they were certainly not for the cold weather. When at least he had come upon the girl, his arms wrapped around her waist. Surprised, Winry went to turn around and smack him. That was, until she found her body being thrown against the nearest wall. When she had thumped against the wall, Edward had slammed his hands wrapped under her shirt and ripped the black top from her, and without even a glance to her exposed skin, put the sweater on her backwards, and used the long sleeves to tie her arms in a straight jacket look.

She kicked at his shin, and Ed backed away for a moment. She tried to run away from him, but found her legs now looped around a pair of her own jeans. Before she could even scream, a large cloth came out from his hands, and was securely tied around her mouth to keep the screams to a minimum. The jeans were then wrapped around her legs, and tightened, making sure by using the rest of the clothing to keep her tied up, nice and tight.

Finally, Edwards left arm slammed against the back of her neck, and the last thing she saw before falling into unconsciousness was the cold, dead eyes of the person she thought she had come to know..and love...staring back at her, no emotion whatsoever in those golden eyes.

--

* * *

I know, I know. It was a bit short this chapter, and this is my rewrite of A Precious Memory. Well, Re-Write, and not Revision, because a good number of people seemed to like A Precious Memory, so think of this as it's sister..? o.o


	2. Chapter 2: Forever

Alright, people. This will be the second chapter of Forlorn Memories. I will update daily, and hope to finish this little fiction material sometime in the future. So bear with me. 3

Chapter 2: Forever...

"Hurry up, Al! You're lagging behind!" The blond-haired Alchemist shouted at the man in armor, trying his best, to catch up to his smaller, and surprisingly faster elder brother. However, it soon became apparent that the shorter one had gotten to the door first.

When Al finally did reach the door, a grin was plastered on Edwards face. One hand was outstretched, with all but his index and middle finger poised in a peace sign. He turned around soon after, however, his breaths becoming small pants.

"Hurry it up, slowpoke! Winry's been waiting for us all this time. I can't believe you stayed at that pet shop for over an hour, looking at kittens!" The elder sibling huffed slightly, his fist pounding against the wood of the door. When there was no answer, a quizzical look came upon his features.

"That's odd. I thought she was expecting us..." He murmured, and knocked once more. Once again, there was no answer. "Hey, Winry! It's us! Are you there?" Still, there seemed to be no answer. It was starting to worry Ed, and he decided to try the door.

When the door did open, however, he was greeted with a most peculiar sight. There was no Winry in sight, and everything seemed in place. This was starting to grate at his nerves like a cheese grater, and it wasn't the good kind of cheese, either.

"Hey, Al. Did Winry say anything about leaving at a certain time?" He inquired the armored-man coming in behind him, and Al shrugged his shoulders in response. This was _really _starting to turn out something like a kidnapping. He had never been to a kidnapping personally, but from the reports he filled out, there was a kidnapping case every once in awhile.

"Hey, Al. Go and check the kitchen. I'll look around, and see if she's in one of the other rooms.." Alphonse nodded solemnly, and went into the kitchen to investigate, while Ed decided to check out the remaining rooms in the home.

. Nothing to suggest anything suspicious...there was nothing too out of place..It was slowly beginning to look as if she had just left to get something and forgot to lock the door to the untrained eye. However, there was one thing he certainly knew that placed this above that..

Because he knew Winry. She didn't leave the door unlocked, at anytime of the day, and she certainly didn't let random strangers come into the home to stay for dinner...From that assumption, Ed began to creep around the table, head into the hallway. Narrowing his eyes into slits, he could still see nothing. No forced entry to suggest an intruder, or anything of the sort..

In fact, this place seemed to be undisturbed as far as intruders were concerned. He moved up the corridor, amber golden hues scanning the walls carefully. There still seemed to be nothing. It was starting to become very strange. It was as if the wind itself had plucked his childhood friend away, and whisked her somewhere...

He stepped around carefully, inspecting each and every room in the house. All except for hers. When he did step up to go into her room, he immediately started to notice something was _very_ wrong. When he had opened the door, for one thing, her closet door was wide open. Articles of clothing, a bandanna, and a few pictures were scattered around on the floor.

Slowly, he bent over and picked up one of the pictures. It was when they were children, he noticed, and all of three of them were right there, together, smiles playing upon their childish lips, with faces as innocent and genuine as a kittens.

He turned around in the room, and took one last, long glance at the room before heading out the door. He closed it behind him, and went back into the main corridor. There, he moved back into the kitchen area. He tugged the picture out of the frame, and put the blank picture frame down on the table. Folding the picture up once, he gently slid the picture into his jacket pocket.

"I found something.." Before he could finish his sentence, Ed had found Alphonse crouched over, with one knee on the ground, and the other standing right up. One of his arms draped over the standing leg, and the other was stroking the wall.

At the voice, his younger sibling turned his head towards him, and nodded. "So did I. It's faint, but there are dents in the wall." He motioned towards the almost invisible dents, that were bent in in a slightly more awkward angle than usual. Edward nodded, and went over to the spot, joining his brother down on the ground.

He too, ran a gloved finger over the spot. "Yeah. There's definitely a dent here. I think we can safely assume that whoever did this..had either one of two reasons. One, he had come in, intending to rob this place blind, and she merely got in the way..or they had planned on a quick escape, ran into complications, and threw her against the wall. Either way..." Ed had intended on continuing, until his brother interrupted.

"That's not all, brother. There are specks of blood over by the oven. At first glance, there is none. But when I looked closer, I saw that she had cut herself by accident when the intruder came in. I don't know, but I think she is in trouble, brother.." Ed didn't seem too surprised at first, when he heard about the blood, his eyes narrowed.

"Then, that's that. We need to find this guy, and hunt him down. We don't have any clues, other than the blood, and the dent..But who do we know who has something to gain from kidnapping Winry?" The question went unanswered for a few moments, until both of their faces lit up. But why him, of all people? Why would he want to kidnap her?

"Dammit! I should've known it was him! He is going to regret taking Winry! I swear to it!" His fists slowly clenched shut, and the latex gloves stretched to their limit from the strain being placed unto them by the balled-up fists. Before Alphonse could respond, his brother had went out the front door, and started down the street. He opted to follow his brother, but before heading out the front door, he stopped midway.

"We'll find you, Winry. We promise." And he closed the door behind him, and followed his brother. Edward didn't seem to notice his brother coming up, and his seething features made any that would love to make a comment about his height shy away, when he saw the anger in his eyes. It was almost like burning hot coal, threatening the engulf anyone who dared to look straight into them.

--

_Pathetic..._

That described his position quite well. In his arms, he held a young female. Her hair was blonde, and her eyes blue. She was dressed in a sweatshirt, pulled around so that it almost looked like a straight-jacket, meant to keep the hostility radiating from her in check. Her legs were wrapped tightly and bound by a pair of blue jeans, while a simple cloth shielded her mouth.

Her eyes however, were closed, and he was thankful for that. At least there would be some silence before the raging storm. Beneath his feet were the shingles of a single rooftop, their color being that of a reddish-brown color. He didn't care for the little details, though, and quickly, his legs bent down low, into a crouching position, before leaping across a narrow way, and onto another rooftop.

A similar routine had been done in the forest, but this was different, in the sense that he had meant to keep this whole ordeal quiet. People weren't looking at the figure jumping around on the rooftops like a crazy chimpanzee on crack, no. They were more concerned for what was happening in the square. It was just your average, everyday human thing.

Dancing, singing, joyous occasion, or something. It was just a passing interest to him currently, and he passed along mostly unnoticed from the spectators. The girl in his arms was slowly beginning to stir, and there was no doubt he would have to explain quite a few things to her. The time for explaining, however, was long gone, and he would not tell her anything.

Finally, when he found a clear landing to where he could stop, and move into the forest without much risk of being caught, he took that route, and continued to jump along each rooftop. When he spotted the escape route, there seemed to be a major problem. Four State Alchemists were patrolling the area, with two on stationary, and the other two roaming.

"Complications, complications..." He murmured to himself, and slowly, the man draped the girl over his shoulder. There, he extended out his arm. The arm itself twisted and turned, the area where once was a metallic arm, now replaced with a state-alchemist looking arm. In the hand was a regular-looking gun.

There was nothing special about it, but it would soon become apparent that it was no ordinary gun. When he aimed it forward, his right eye began to twitch a little. When the two stationary guards were alone, he waited patiently. One of the guards eyes drooped closed, and that's when he shot the gun, thrice. The first two shots didn't make a sound, even as one shot hit the guard in his throat, and the other into his leg. The guard in question slumped against the gates, and looked as if he were asleep.

The third shot had shot at the other guard, and it had grazed the guards cheek, and forced it to stumble the other way. With one guard out of the way, and the other distracted, he made a quick leap of faith, and before anyone could notice – even the still-alive guard could not notice him apparently. Wow, these State Alchemists' guards were utterly worthless! -- he landed away from the festival. There, his arm transformed back into it's mechanical replacement.

From there, he hurried along in the cover of the forest, weaving in and out of the trees effortlessly, almost like a blurred image of a cheetah. It took a good sixty minutes of this dodging, and weaving, before he landed upon the familiar clearing. When he found the un-hinged door, and the broken window, there was no mistake now. Slowly, he headed into the home, and put the girl down onto a sofa. He unwrapped the cloth on her mouth and threw it to the side, also unwinding the clothing that still bound her, though the straight-jacket-like sweater proved a little difficult.

Satisfied that he had freed her for the moment, he went over to the door, and picked up the broken wood. His right eye continued to twitch at this, and with a shake of his head, he laid out the wood on the forest floor.

"Fuck.." He muttered, his frustration with the door starting to rise to the surface. As with before, the familiar illuminating, green light shrouded his entire form, and as with before, it changed as a result. Returning to the original form he had, his body crouched over, and began to run a finger over the wood.

Standing back upwards from the momentary inspection, he moved back into the house. Slowly, he started up the stairs, and looked around the corridor. Once he reached the door that held a certain label above it, he opened the door, and walked into the place.

The label, on it's own, simply stated the name of the room: Storage. Before long, he continued to come out with several pieces of equipment, and took each piece outside. There, he began to reconstruct the broken door, making sure to leave as little mistakes as possible. Occasionally, he would add a lock to the door every few minutes during the project.

By the end of said project, the door was reinforced. It's outer-frame was now accentuated by a steel frame, with the same-like nails digging into the spots in said frame. The door hinge, and the frame were also replaced by steel alloy, and when he began to re-hinge the door, he found it quite easy to deal with. There were now eight locks in total on the door, each one different from the last. He wiped the sweat from his forehead shortly after, and walked into the home.

He looked to the window, and a small vein inside of him began to throb. Slowly, his anger was rising. Not so much about the house, more so about the flimsy design. The windows were too weak, as was the door. The thing broke every few days, whether or not it was his doing, or the hinges doing.

"Whoever built this house deserves to die a slow, painful death..."He murmured, before taking the equipment back inside of the home. After putting everything back in the storage room, he returned to the living room, to find the girl not only awake..

But she was also already fleeing out the door! Unfortunately for the girl, he spotted her fleeting attempt, and put his foot on the railing of the stairs. Then, he leaped from the stairs to the floor in a matter of seconds, and grabbed her long, blond hair. Then, he yanked her back, and the other hand wrapped around her throat.

From there, he slammed the girl against the wall, and his eyes looked deep into hers, their narrowed eyes at close range radiating anger. "Look, you pathetic excuse for a human being. If you want to live, then you will learn to stay put. Try to escape again, and I'll break your _legs. _Again, and I'll break your _arms. _A third time, and I'll break all of your bones." The girl, at this, spat in his eyes, and at this, he threw the girl across the room.

She slammed against the kitchen table, and groaned out in pain. The man hurried on over to her, and grabbed her by the throat once more, lifting her up to his eye level. No whimper came from the girl, but he could tell from her eyes alone, she was scared. He dropped her to the ground, and when she fell unto her butt, a small whimper came from her throat. Before punishing her any further, he went over to the door, and closed it shut, locking it tightly. There were eight locks, and seven of them required keys. He went over to the girl, and, despite her protests, grabber her by the collar of her shirt. Then, he dragged her up the stairs, purposely not picking her up to keep her from hitting the stairs.

Once up there, he tossed her into the storage. She yelped at this motion, especially when she landed against a sharp object, which had stabbed her in the hand. This object, it turned out, was just a nail, and it had only caused minor damage..

However, he didn't care one way or the other about her condition right now. Slowly, he salvaged around the room, and eventually, he found a few things, and stepped out of the storage room. He slammed the door closed, and locked it, and went down the stairs, and began to board up the windows. There was no escape in the storage room. It was devoid of any windows, or any means of escape other than the door itself.

A good twenty minutes later, and he returned to the room, and unlocked the door. He saw her run at him as soon as he opened the door, with a sharp object in her hand. He easily dodged this move, and slammed his knee into her gut. This act sent her back a bit, and he followed it up with a backhand slap to her face. This, in effect, caused her to fall to the ground. The item fell a few ways away, and he moved over to her. A scowl was clearly evident upon her face, and he leaned over to her. Then, grabbing her up by the hair, he tossed her out of the room.

Moments later, he would come out, and find that she was running down the stairs. A snarl escaped his throat this time, and he followed after her. When he cornered her at the door, this time, his fist found her gut, and then her face. Once she fell to the floor, he leaned down, and grabbed her by the wrist. Yanking her to her feet, he jammed a knife into her knee. When she fell to the ground from the pain, and started to cry, and spat on the ground, and leaned down.

There, he lifted up her chin with his hand, and glanced into her crying eyes. At last, he spoke. "Look, you stupid wench. I'm _trying _to be a _nice, _hospitable _captor. _But you see, you're making it difficult. So, if you stop with all this _nonsense,_ we can start to accept this whole captor-captive relationship right now, and then, we can mutually _hate_ one-another. Sound good? Good." He tore the knife from her knee, which caused her to scream in pain.

A grin now curled along his lips at the scream, and his eyes looked back down to the girl. "I'm normally quite nice with my captives, but you see, when they start to piss me off, I can get rather.._unpleasant. _Might wanna write that down, because it's going to be on the test." He moved away from the so-far silent girl, and sprawled on the chair, with one foot resting over one arm of the chair, while his other was on the ground. In his other hand was the knife, and the other, was a pair of shackles, which he threw to the ground.

Slowly, the girl moved to sit on the couch, and tore a piece of cloth from the straight-jacket like sweater, and wrapped it around the wound on her leg. She snuggled up on the couch, and turned her head away from the man in the chair. Finally, she spoke.

"Why me? Why couldn't it have been some other, unfortunate, girl? Why did you pick me, you freak of nature!?" She shouted at the man, to which he merely chuckled. "What's so funny!?" She screamed at him, and in response, he moved to sit up straight in the chair, and he leaned forward.

"It's because of your connection to the Fullmetal Pipsqueak. I'm using you as bait, so that when he bites on the worm..I can hook him up, and reel him in. Then..gut him." His lips upturned into a smirk, and she felt her throat boiling over with vomit threatening to spill out.

"By the way girl..." He saw the look on her face, and the smirk widened into a sadistic, twisted version of a grin. "Tell me your name. I rather like knowing the name of my prey's affectionate members. After all, what's the fun in it, if all I can call you is girl?" Her eyebrows raised, and for several minutes she was silent.

Finally, she gulped a little, and nodded her head. "...Winry." She spoke, her eyes narrowing into daggers at him. Satisfied, the male laid back in the chair, and tilted his head to the side a bit. So, this was in fact, her. That was good. If he had gotten the wrong girl, he'd just have killed her right then. So far, so good..

"Your lover knows me quite well. You can call me..Envy." When he saw the recognition in her eyes, he had knew this was all just..too perfect.

--

There's Chapter 2. If it sucks, please tell me. I felt it was fairly well done, and hopefully longer than my last chapter. So, anyways. Here it is. :3


	3. Chapter 3: BlueEyes

I apologize for the longest time for being absent; if anything, inspiration was lost, drafts were forged but gone, things were misshapen, but now, I have it back; wuhahaha! The quest for the Holy Inspiration has succeeded! Finally. Anyways; onto the story. Now, before I do, I have two things to say.

To my readers: I am -so- very sorry for all the wait you've endured for the updates. Really, I am. But I just couldn't find the inspiration; for the longest time I was lost, it was lost. Ugh. Anyways; I do dearly apologize, really. If this makes me hated, even feared among you, or whatever, then so be it. But I -hate- disappointing you, really. Contrary to my absence, the most important thing is telling this, a story of which I conceived, and telling it to you. But I have failed in producing viable results in a short amount of time; I apologize.

Will you ever forgive me? If not, it's understandable; anyways. Enough of my ramblings. On with Chapter 3.

Disclaimer: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of it's relating characters; purely done for recreational purposes, and not for profit.

Chapter 3: Blue-Eyes

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Persevering, pervading, persistent; _pain. _More than just these simple wording would explain her position; so many p's, but they were all purposely prevalent to convey that which, with words, she could not; especially not when the singular jailer now sat rather close to her position; not in the direct vicinity, perse, but definitely nearer than she would like.

Rather, she did recognize the male, especially now that he spoke his designated codename; _Envy. _The personification of coveting, jealousy, what have you; created by the forbidden taboo known as human transmutation. Of course, the whole thing sounded foreign, somewhat; how can such atrocious sins become personified in such a humanly manner?

After all, if they were such dreadful sins, then He wouldn't have allowed it, right? Not that he couldn't allow it or anything; it just seemed improbable. The whole resurrection thing, creating a homunculus; it was all somewhat foreign. It wasn't like it _couldn't _be done; after all, one look around her surroundings, and that was one thing indefinitely known; the personification of the sin Envy was, after all, sitting close to her own proximity.

Not that she cared; she wasn't -directly- terrified of him, yet. _Yet. _Of course, there comes a time for when things get out of hand; a good example would quite be the wound in her leg.

Ah, yes; _that._ Now that she remembered the wound, the searing agony...pain..re-registered it's existence into her nervous system; this caused a low hiss to escape from her throat, head bobbing down slightly, one eye closing down instinctually*, while the other stayed open, for the moment. This slight curiousness of movement peaked the male's interest, his left brow inclining slightly to the curious cause of movement.

And he chuckled.

The chuckle resonated within her ears, and filled her with a bit of resentment, and anger; turning her head to face the male, either orb narrowed. "It's _so _not funny! How would _you _like it if someone stabbed you in the knee!?"

In response, his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, almost as if in thought; then, when the eyes opened and peered over towards her, a smile graced his lips; wicked as it were, it sent shivers down her spine. "Oho; that depends, really. If it were me, I'd enjoy the experience. Though, it all depends upon the person; really, if it was just some stranger, I'd supposed annoyance, and irritation would be one of those 'emotions'. But, otherwise wouldn't cause me to..." He stopped for a moment, eyes moving to the wounded area.

"..._hiss _in pain; fragility and weakness is rather unbecoming. Though, I suppose many of your _kind _would be content with being weak, and unable to protect the ones they love; watching them die, and not being able to _do _anything..._such _tragedy...but such delight; it does befit the existence of one's love, after all. Sooner or later, you all die; some more tragically than others. The tragic ones tend to be far more entertaining. More drama, less..." Pausing for a brief moment, his eyes wandered elsewhere, before moving up to her own, sapphire ones.

Seeing the slight eagerness – and some tint of hatred, possibly anger – in them, he spoke once more; then, clearing out his voice to a small degree, he began, in his utmost best of an impression of a young couple – conveniently sounding like the Midget and the female across. " 'Oh, Edward...! Wherever shall you go?' 'Do not distress, my dear Winry! For I, the valiant Edwardo shall be back! I must do this, you see; it is impossible!' 'Oh, Edward...You make my heart flutter across...' " Stopping abruptly, he let out a hearty cough, then another clearing.

"Bleh. That's more than enough _of _that. Almost made me want to vomit. You get the point, nevertheless, don't you?" In response, he noticed her head, similar to before, bob down, then back up once; curious gesture, but he assumed it was the nonverbal body language one would refer to as 'Yes.'

"Good. I'd rather _not _do another; at any rate, do tell me one thing..._Winry._" Shifting his movement a bit, he relieved his fist of the stress caused by leaning his cheek unto the limb for so long, and sat up, either hand moving upon his kneecaps; then, with a shift in movement, he stood up, left hand clasping itself around his hip joint, head turning from it's forward position to her, before the remainder of the lithe form shifting to the same direction.

"The thing I wish to ask you is this; the wound. Does it need immediate medical attention? I'm not asking this out of concern; rather, don't think I'm actually being _thoughtful, concerned, _or even remotely _kind _to your condition; moreover, I only really _care_ because, if you _die _then the little demon Chibi'll never find much incentive to come here in the first place; that's the deal." Peering over to the girl, he saw her shift uncomfortably, turning her head away from the male; this made his smirk curl into a frown.

Breathing out a sigh, both arms moved from their former positions to one over his chest, hues narrowing. "Look, girl, you may not care for _your _safety, but, since you're an _essential _part of my _crafty _plan, then you best speak up; or, would you like me to further the current pain you're feeling, right now? I can do much _worse; _delivering pain is one of my specialties..." Letting that sentence linger for a bit, he still continued to await her response.

When none was given, he grew even more irritated at the girl. "And, unlike that small _hiss _of pain, I can send you into a world of never-ending _screams. _Oho, don't think you won't scream; I can _make _you scream, whether you want to or not." Again, he waited a response.

....still no answer. Finally, fed up with the girl's stubbornness, he moved over to her form, hues fully narrowed downward at her, when she finally turned to look at him, he expected her to scream; possibly run. Instead, she did something rather unexpected, though it was not unseen.

She got up, and slapped him right across the face, sending his head lolling over to one side, spit coming out of his mouth and flying onto the wall, splattering it's goo over a small section of it, hair falling all around his face; a red hand mark began to formulate on the cheek that had been slapped, and, his face hidden behind the bangs, began to rise in heat- anger mostly. Rage.

Before she could stop them, the words poured out of her mouth like a cascading waterfall. "Don't you even _dare _threaten me! Why, I have half a mind to kick you where the sun doesn't shine! You little..ergh! First, you _kidnap _me; then you dive a _knife _into my leg; then you mock me, and _then _offer _help!? _What kind of messed up logic is _that!?" _With one hand lingering onto her side, the other still hung in the air, not moving from the position it left when slapping him, her eyes narrowed daggers at the male, as unresponsive as he was.

Of course, realization hit her quite hard; when she had finally gotten to rationally thinking of what she did, a gulp found it's way down her throat, and her hand shied away from it's slapping position, and over to her side; stepping backward nervously.

Forever, it seemed like he was stuck; stuck in that position, until his head returned to it's position, hues narrowing _spears_ at her. This was bad; very _very _bad.

At first, it seemed like a quiet, calmed rage; perhaps he was only going to ignore her little..outburst? Not likely; but she could hope. Of course, all that hope was dashed when he removed one arm from it's position, and backhanded her across the face, sending her face lulling to the side similarly; though, with a quick and agile movement, he grabbed the blond locks falling downward, and yanked her head back forcefully, keeping the grip upon the hair.

Before she could even formulate another cohesive thought, he roughly slammed his knee into her ribcage, causing not just spit, but a small amount of crimson liquid to spill out of her mouth; with her bent over his knee, hands gripped onto her hair, he leaned over, close to her ear, anger evident in his tone of voice. "Try that again, you little wrench whore. I _dare _you. I'm not going to kill you, I'll give you that, you lucky little _bitch. _But, there are things _far _worse than death. Got that?" Yanking her head back up to face him head on, he gazed at her face, her eyes.

Something stirred inside of him, at that moment; not the rage boiling over, nor the anger, or other such emotions. But, whatever the emotion was, he disregarded it for the moment; it was pointless now, especially now. Before letting her response, he let go of the hair, pushed his palm against her shoulder to spin her around, before he sent a rough palm into her back, only hard enough to send her crashing, rather roughly, into the wall; upon hitting it, her body tumbled backwards, before the screaming agony of her leg – coupled with her newly bruised ribcage – sent pain all over her body.

At one point, she even let out a small scream; not loud enough to be heard, nor loud enough to even really leave the house. But enough to satisfy his taste. He didn't even bother catching the girl when she fell onto her back, and took time to get to her form, looming over her, the frown still set upon his face; when she opened her eyes, they filled with emotion, fleeting as they were; scared, helplessness, terror, anger, pain; before they settled onto pain, either lid closing, body sprawled out onto the floor. A grin made it's way onto his features, body crouching down to the ground, either arm hanging loosely over his knees, one hand moving out to grasp her hair; another yelp came forward..

But this time, a more muffled one; he assumed her vocal cords were tired from the quick scream she made earlier, or it was one of those 'stubborn' features; either way, he quickly tugged her locks up, and, following his motion, forced her to stand up with him. This caused more yelping, though she couldn't resist much at this point. Squatting slightly, he caught her tumbling form within his shoulders, and, once back up to standing tall, and firm, would then carefully stroll towards the stairs; moving upwards, two steps at a time, it took few precious seconds to reach the top.

When he peered over towards the fairly wide corridor, three same-colored doors stood on one side, and one differently colored door – unlike the rest of the doors, which were th color of the wooden structure – succulent, polished brown – it was rather white; at the end of the hallway stood another differently colored door, though it wasn't really 'colored' so much as been reinforced; steel, rather, replaced the wooden door found previously. Above it read a sign, like the others, in bold lettering: 'Storage.'

On the lone door on one side, stood similar lettering, though it read differently; 'Washroom', and on the others, spelled words like 'Bedroom' or 'Bathroom.' The last one was named the 'Playroom.' Curious names, but moving along the hallway, he stopped at the bedroom. The girl in his arms stirred, but mostly hissed from the pain, her breathing becoming slightly ragged.

Opening the door to the aptly named 'Bedroom', immediately upon entering, he found a distaste for it; for one, there was only one bed. Sure, he saw it once before, but now; he saw it in a much different light. Whereas before, it was a convenience, now it was an annoyance; for one, he could find any place to rest..but, it was, surprisingly, softer than the couch.

Or so he assumed; either way, the girl would have to sleep somewhere. The couch wouldn't do; he had to keep an eye on her, and it was likely she could, given time, easily get out of the door -despite it's steel reinforcements – and escape. Sure, three hours would do no good, but if it was during the night, someone could probably spot her. Or take advantage of her.

'Tsh. Humans. Always taking advantage of one another's weaknesses; what're you going to do when a young, beautiful blonde haired, sapphire-eyed beauty is laying in the open street, during the dead night, where no one is around to see the act, even though she's obviously in pain...and probably helpless?

The first thing that probably comes to mind is rape; contrary to popular human ideology, it's not helping; no. First thing is usually..taking advantage. Rape. Probably a good few hours, maybe days; then release her. Y'know. Act like the saint, after taking full advantage. Or just do so, kill her, then dump her out in the woods. Sure, the people here were supposedly 'good' but many of them would likely turn a blind eye when a helpless, blonde, beautiful girl is sitting there, staring at them.

Helpless. Probably unlikely to remember the event. Give her some for a few hours; days. Keep her saturated, knocked out, blah blah. Amnesiac as she is likely to be, you'll be off the hook. At least, until the nasty reality of her having a baby that doesn't belong to her lover comes into question; theeen you'll be in for one hell of a roller coaster ride, eh? Fun while it lasted, but now you're in the shithole, pal. The biiig shithole. Welcome to the little street of Shithole, located on the boulevard of Fuck and Shit. Welcome to Shithole. Have a nice day.

Of course, that analogy wasn't needed; or even really consistent to whatever point he meant to make; shaking his head slightly, he removed the blonde from his shoulder, and carried her over to the bed; the form wasn't limp, but it did seem like she didn't feel the moving type; placing her on the right side of the bed, he moved away from the bed.

It did look rather comfortable; clean mattress, white sheets, red colored blanket; pillows. All the comfortable necessities that define a 'bed'. The good part about the room, though, was probably the wardrobe nearby. Oh, yeah; her clothes. They were, for the most part, already in there; he had taken the liberty to put them there. Even if they were in a heap on the floor, they were still there.

At least he did -that-. He could've left them, and never got them in the first place; she _should _ be grateful; of course, she should be grateful he spared her, as well. But, whatever; it didn't matter. On either side of the bed, seemed to be a stand, of sorts; four legged, and with three sets of...what were they? Drawers, or something? They were mostly empty ones, anyways; on either one stood a picture frame. Two parents, two kids; one boy, one girl. Looked content, happy.

'course, that was 'till they left, he assumed. It was abandoned, after all. It had been far worse when he came across the little niche spot. The insides were, for the most part, in shambles; same for the outside. Took too long to make the whole house into a livable one; after all, if he was to have a captive, there had to be -some- degree of niceness to the place.

Doesn't do one good to live in a shambled place, anyways; steel reinforcements stolen from other homes helped, too. Nevertheless, the place was fine; hell, the furniture looked brand new, oddly enough. It was the rest of the house that was in shambles, mostly paint, some furniture. Pictures still there, but ah well.

Nothing a bit redecorating couldn't fix, though.

Moving away from the bed now, the girl's body curled inward somewhat, hands moving to curl inwardly, and around her rib cage; flecks of blood still lingered on the side of her mouth, hardened from the exploitation to the oxygen. Taking one last look at the room, he moved out of it, and along the hallway.

Now, opening the door, reinforced by steel, he opened it; greeted by many a tool – mostly 'acquired' through the days of building, reinforcing...amongst other things; being not a fan of having to do such tedious tasks, it was something he'd enjoy forgetting. But, there was a good deal of medical supplies left but whoever left behind the place. Gathering up the supplies within his palms, he turned over the small container in his hands, before popping it open; eureka? Would -that- be the right expression? Whatever it was, he found what he wanted; stitches. A needle. And some thread.

Probably not what should be contained in this thing, but whatever; walking out of the storage room, he roughly tugged the door behind him as he exited, and moved back to the bedroom. Gazing forward, he saw the girl sitting onto the bed, her eyes hidden by the blonde hair around her face; this was curious. Much more so made by the clenching movement she made to the bedded sheets. The cloth wrapped around her leg was completely covered in blood now, probably useless in keeping it from bleeding now.

She didn't seem to move, except for making the rare disgruntled sound; moving along at her, he dropped the container onto the bed, and took a seat beside her. When he did, the girl reacted; not in the violent reaction, but she turned her head, orbs gazing at him curiously; inquisitively. With the bangs hanging to one side, and the remaining sort of just hanging down, she looked quite different than before...

....he couldn't begin to explain it; but again, something boiled within him; slowly. But it was slowly getting stronger, more robust, more comprehensible, more substance; what it was, there was no explanation for it; just that it existed...and was slowly building up. And it began to irritate, even annoy; brushing off whatever emotion it was, he moved the container's contents to the bed, then stood back up once more, moving closer to the girl; when he turned around, to face her seated form, her head moved with his own shifting position, head leaning back to peer upward at him.

And the strangest thing? The emotion boiled again; reaching over, he roughly pushed his palm against her forehead, sending her form onto the bed frame; then, quickly grabbing the wounded leg – with a loud protesting yelp from her, and even an obscenity, or two, he lifted it up somewhat; then, pulling off the cloth around it, again, she hissed in pain.

"Warning, my dear _Princess..._" Sarcasm; oh joy; what had the world come to, when he actually called someone _that? _Nonetheless, for the moment, the word served it's purpose.."I'm no good at stitching, or for that matter, delicate procedure; so, unless you'd love to increase the pain by protesting, I'd say stay still. This is going to be oh so very _fun. " _Fun was a subjective word; and it was an opinionated word; one could define many things from it, after all.

Deriving pleasure from causing pain was fun; but healing someone? 'Tsh..not even close. Picking up the contents of the container, her began...well; doing whatever it looked like, was to be done; putting the thread in the needle, and the stitches in, or something; just sorta threading the whole process. Probably not the good thing to do, but it'll do. It took about an hour or so, possibly three, to finish.

It wasn't bad handiwork, and during the whole thing, he could hear her repeated screams; at one point, he decided to cover up her mouth with gauze. It worked, surprisingly enough, for what it was worth; once all was said and done, he leaned backward, gazing down upon his handiwork.

Even removing the gauze, the girl seemed quiet; it did take him somewhat by surprise when she did finally answer, after an eerie silence. Peering over at him, either arm looping around her chest, her lips curled from their unidentifiable position, to a small smile..

".....T-thank you, Envy."

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Aha; I finished the third chapter. I know, it was Envy/Winry centric. I apologize, but it seemed somewhat-appropriate to give them a chapter, sort of. But, fear not; the next one will include some of Edward and Al. Sorry, Al and Edward fans. And I'll promise it won't be a year and a half for the next update. I hope it'll satisfy some of you; if not, well, I still apologize. Xx; Anyways. Sit tight for the next one. Hopefully can start on it tomorrow.

*Note: I don't actually know if this is a WORD or not. If I made it up and you patent it, you can thank me, publically*(2). No need for money, just acknowledgment will be fine.

**Note 2: Ahem. Again, don't know if that one is a word, either. If you patent, just give me a high five or something. Not that I expect it, but it would be nice of you?

Anyways; there ya go! I hope you enjoyed it, for what it was worth; I worked fairly well on it. I just hope it pleases you. It's a bit longer than the other one, or a lot. Don't know. But, who cares about length? As long as it's got quality,and I think it does. Or hope so! Read, review, all that jazz; tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is adored. Flames, not so much. Shall be used to burn the heathens that spawn them.

***Last Note: 4 thousand word breach! First time. Hooray. -/fireworks, all that jazz. - /end randomness. Cookies for all, as apology for absence and celebration!? /end randomness for good. Really. -

Anyways, 'nuff of that long end-footnote-thingie. I hope you enjoy~

-Yagami, Kazu.


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